


Dean Winchester Writes His Own Damn Epilogue, Thank You Very Much

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: We Write Our Own Story (a.k.a. Team Free Will 3.0, Expanded Edition) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Because HOLY SHIT THAT WAS DUMB, But I want them to be free as well, But I was POSSESSED, I also fix the Sam/Eileen thing as an aside, I had no intention of writing this, I'm finally free of this trash show, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: It’s the end of the story, but Dean is still missing something very important (post ep to 5x19, which is DEFINITELY THE LAST EPISODE OF THE SERIES. THERE WAS NOTHING AFTER THAT. FUCK YOU, CW.)***NOW WITH CHAPTER 2!!!***
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: We Write Our Own Story (a.k.a. Team Free Will 3.0, Expanded Edition) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025290
Comments: 58
Kudos: 534





	1. Chapter 1

Dean dropped Sam off at Eileen’s.

Yeah, he probably should have done that on the way back to the bunker. Sam had used Dean's phone to call her on the way there, fear in his eyes like she might be the one person on the entire planet Jack _hadn’t_ brought back, and when the video call had connected Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen his little brother so damn happy. He’d only stopped talking to her because Donna had called, and Jody, and Garth, and Apocalypse Bobby, and Apocalypse Charlie, and pretty much everyone who’d been panicked about the end of the world and was very happily not dead. It was an endless stream of wins, all of it overwhelming enough that Dean couldn’t really think beyond the automatic instinct to just go home.

No, that was a lie. Not that he wasn’t damn glad to hear from everyone – there were a hell of a lot of good people who were back in the world now – but there was a part of him that was just so fucking angry. He knew how much Jack loved Cas, knew that Cas loved Jack back just as much. Yeah, he was trying the whole impartial shit, but that did _not_ fucking mean leaving Cas to stew in the Empty. Cas deserved to have a God who gave a shit about him for once, and if Jack couldn’t manage to be that there was never going to be a damn shot to make it happen.

The real reason he didn’t think to drop Sam off at Eileen’s on the way back to the bunker was he kept waiting for Cas to be one of the calls. Every second of his attention that wasn’t focused on the road was waiting for the phone to ring. But it never happened.

Because Cas was still in the Empty.

So they went home, grabbed Sam's phone, drank a beer, then Dean turned right around and dropped Sam off at Eileen’s. He told Sam he was going to blow off some steam, spun some BS story about a pie orgy and checking to see if that lactose intolerance shit had kicked back in, and let Sam remind him that they had accepted no less than three dinner invitations for the following week so he shouldn’t make himself too sick. Sam’s eyes were sad as he said the words, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and even Eileen asked him to stay for dinner even though she had to be desperate to be alone with Sam.

But Dean just smiled, like he was so good at, and drove off letting Sam think he was going to go drown his sorrows the old-fashioned way. He was already sad enough about Jack and Cas that he didn’t need more worry about Dean added to it, and Eileen would be a hell of a lot better at comforting him than Dean would be. Sam deserved the chance to be happy, and even if this was Dean letting him go the thought didn’t scare the shit out of him like it used to.

And hell, he’d probably still see him in a week anyway.

Then he went back to the bunker, fed the dog, and went through the Men of Letters library looking for anything they had on the Empty. He also grabbed anything they had on summoning in general, because there wasn’t actually a hell of a lot on the Empty and he needed a backup plan.

Then he laid all the books out on the table, got another beer, and went to work.

000

It was about three in the morning when Dean felt the change.

He was four books in at that point, trying to translate Latin using an online app to back up what little he’d picked up over the years, when the air in the room changed like someone had let out a breath. Dean didn’t look up from his book, pointing a warning finger in the direction that felt right. “You said you were going to stay out of human stuff.”

“Dean.” There was the faintest edge of fond exasperation in Jack’s tone, Cas’s kid rather than God, and Dean couldn’t stop his throat from tightening. “The Empty isn’t ‘human stuff.’”

“It is if Cas is there.” Dean looked up to meet Jack’s eyes, wrapping the old familiar anger around the part of him that felt like crying. “You sure as shit didn’t bring him back.”

There was a flash of guilt in Jack’s eyes, and he hesitated before he spoke. “I have to be careful.”

“I get that, man, I do, but saving one fucking angel isn’t going to turn you into Chuck.” Dean stood, voice rough. Jack was a good kid, even if he was God. This would be so damn much easier than doing it on his own. “I’m not asking you to do it for me – I think we both know I don’t fucking deserve it. Do it for _Cas_. You know how much he’d hate being stuck there for the rest of eternity.”

Jack shifted, the guilt in his eyes only sharpening. “No one liked it there, really. Even Amara thought it was terrible.”

“See?” His cajoling voice was an awful thing, almost a parody of itself, but if he let it slip at all he’d start begging. “Just clear the entire thing out. The Empty can sleep, and heaven and hell gets everyone back.” He paused. “Okay, we should probably leave Lucifer in there.”

“He and Michael were both destroyed by Chuck, and their energy went into me. They’re not in the Empty to retrieve.” Now Jack gave him a searching look. “But there are other angels there you had trouble with. Uriel. Zachariah. Are you really sure you’re prepared to deal with them again?”

Dean swallowed, sure that Jack could see every broken, screwed-up piece of him. He would say it was a God thing, but Chuck had sure as hell never been able to pull that off. “If it gets me Cas back,” he managed, more honest than he had ever been with anyone in his life. “I’ll deal with whatever I have to.”

The look that passed over Jack’s face then was so kind, and so sad, that it nearly broke him. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

The anger that rose up was more desperation than anything. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. There’s gotta be some way—”

The words choked into silence as Jack shook his head. “That’s not what I’m apologizing for.” He looked almost embarrassed for a moment. “He said you wouldn’t want to see him.”

Dean just stared at him, not comprehending what he was hearing. “What?”

Jack spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m trying not to read people unless there’s a reason. And in this case, it felt like I would be meddling.”

Understanding slammed into him like a semi. “You already got Cas out of the Empty,” he managed, voice sounding far away even to his own ears. “And he thought _I wouldn’t want to see him_?”

Now Jack looked guilty again. “I should have pushed. I’m sorry.”

Rage and hope lit him up like a torch. “ _Cas!_ ” he roared at the heavens. “Get your feathered ass down here _this fucking instant_!” He felt a shift in the air, like the moment before someone draws in a breath to speak, and jabbed his finger in Jack’s direction. “And _you_. You had better come over for dinner at _least_ once a fucking week, or you will get prayed to so damn often you’ll have to create yourself a set of miracle fucking earplugs just to shut me up.”

Now he looked sad again. “Dean…”

“No.” He jabbed a finger downward to accentuate the point, staring Jack down with every ounce of the fire burning in him. “You might not want to stick yourself into everyone else’s story, but you were in ours before all this shit started. You are a _Winchester_ , damn it, and that has not fucking changed just because you also happen to be God.”

Jack stared at him for a long moment, then smiled a little. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m serious. There is no sound in the _universe_ loud enough to drown me out.” Jack’s smile widened as he disappeared, and something inside Dean eased for just a moment. “I’ll make cake!” he yelled into the now-empty room, knowing Jack could hear.

But he wasn’t the only supernatural being who’d better be fucking listening. “Damn it, Cas, if you do not get down here this _instant_ , I will find some way to kill myself on a fucking _rusty nail_ just so I can get up there and kick your ass in person!”

Less than a heartbeat later, Cas popped into the room. He looked… scared, almost, for a second Dean genuinely didn’t know whether he wanted to punch the angel or _himself_ for ever putting that look on Cas’s face. “Dean.”

He _burned_ , rage and hope and something he’d tried for so damn long to never give voice to. “You thought _I wouldn’t fucking want to see you_?”

Cas let out a breath, some of the fear leaving him. “I thought you would need time. I have been around humans long enough to know that certain kinds of love are not always welcome.” He scrubbed his hands across his face, such a _human_ gesture that it squeezed like a fist around Dean’s heart. “I needed time as well. I never intended to tell you.”

That shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Especially because he deserved it. “Then you’re an idiot.”

Cas actually smiled a little at that. “Bobby – the one from our world – said the same thing.”

Of course Bobby had found Cas. Hopefully he’d given him a headslap. “Well, he’s right.” Grief rose up in his throat, all the times he’d lost Cas rising up inside him at once. Somehow, it did nothing to dampen the fire. “You do not tell someone you _love them_ and then pretend to _still be dead_.”

The words were raw, full of everything he was feeling, and Cas’s eyes snapped to his with such surprise that it hurt him like a knife. Did Cas really have _no idea_? Had he really failed _that badly_?

Well, it wasn’t like he’d had a fucking clue, either. Clearly, they were _both_ idjits. 

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was rough, guilt filling his eyes as he took a step closer. “I’m sorry. I should have realized how much I hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot I should have realized, too.” Dean swallowed, gaze still locked with Cas’s. “And for the record, I don’t need time to figure out what to say.”

He crossed the rest of the distance between them, grabbed Cas by his shirtfront, and crushed their mouths together. Cas was frozen for a second, clearly shocked, then all that old pizza man training kicked back in and he was suddenly an active participant. The flame inside Dean roared, swallowing up any lingering traces of fear, and as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss nerve endings he had fucking forgotten _existed_ blazed into screaming life. Cas’s arms tightened around him, pulling him closer, and if he was somehow dreaming this he prayed to Jack no one would wake him up.

When they broke apart, Cas stared at him like a man having a religious experience. “Have I mentioned I love you?” he breathed, looking half-drugged.

It was the _best._

Dean grinned, stepping back only enough to grab Cas by the tie and start pulling him back toward the bedroom. “I think I heard you say something about that.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean woke up to the sound of the phone ringing.

He reached for it with his free arm, since the other was still firmly wrapped around the naked angel still sprawled across his chest. “You didn’t have to stay in bed with me all night, you know,” he told him, voice still fogged with sleep and satisfaction as he fumbled around the nightstand for wherever in the hell he’d put his phone. “I know you don’t sleep.”

“No, but being pressed up against you is infinitely preferable to anything else I could be doing,” Cas murmured back, not lifting his head at all. “Especially with no clothes on.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, I do like that addition.” He stroked his fingertips along Cas’s arm, his voice getting all soft along with the melty feeling inside him. “But we’re gonna be doing this a hell of a lot, for a hell of a long time. You’re gonna get bored at some point.”

Cas rubbed his cheek against his chest, which somehow managed to be both hot and make all kinds of tender feelings prickle up. Then he lifted his head just enough to rest his chin there instead, looking down at Dean with the kind of serious, tender expression he felt like he only just now understood. “Dean.” The familiar gravel of his voice was whisper soft. “I could stay right where I am for a thousand years, and I would cherish every single second of that time.”

That now-familiar fist of emotion wrapped itself back around Dean’s heart, squeezing tight, and he stretched back upward for another kiss. That was the moment when the phone started back up again, apparently having stopped at some point when he was no longer paying attention, and Dean swore. “Cas…”

Cas just smiled, dropping a quick kiss against Dean’s mouth before pulling away. “Answer the phone, Dean.”

Dean made an exasperated noise, searching for his phone with his eyes last time. It turned out it wasn’t on the nightstand at all, instead having fallen to the ground and kicked halfway under the edge. He grabbed it, saw it was Sam, and got back in bed before answering. “Why in the hell are you not having sex with your girlfriend?” he asked exasperatedly, pulling Cas close again. “’Yay the world didn’t end and neither of us are dead!’ sex should take at _least_ a solid 24 hours with snack breaks. And that’s just at a minimum.”

“Well, Dean, when you get up before 11 a.m., you have time to fit in both sex _and_ practical daily activities.” The vaguely pissy edge to Sam’s voice was almost more familiar than the Impala, but then he sighed and Dean could hear the worry set in. “Also, I wanted to check and make sure you hadn’t choked to death on a pie or anything.”

Dean closed his eyes, remembering the story he’d told Sam the day before. Instead of responding, he poked Cas gently in the arm with the phone. When Cas raised an eyebrow in question, Dean gestured for him to take it.

Gingerly – technically, he’d been avoiding Sam, too – Cas took the phone. “Hello, Sam.”

Dean settled his head back against the pillow, smile returning as he listened to Sam make excited noises through the phone. “No, Dean did not do anything dangerous to get me back. Jack was able to pull me out of the Empty,” he said gently, then listened to whatever else Sam was saying. “I may have to go back to Heaven occasionally to help with some re-organization Jack is doing, but I will be living at the bunker.”

Sam said something else, the words he could hear implying it was a suggestion for one of the couples to drive to where the other was, and Cas looked down at Dean with another raised eyebrow. Dean just grinned, making a “go-ahead” gesture with his fingers, and Cas gave him a soft smile. “Actually, I think you should follow Dean’s suggestion and go have more sex with Eileen. It turns out that human sex is a great deal more enjoyable than it appears to be from the outside.”

The statement should probably not have made Dean feel quite so proud as it did. He’d gotten plenty of positive feedback the night before, even though Dean had only vaguely known what he was doing and Cas hadn’t known at all. He had a pretty good grasp of hand jobs, though, and the touching and kissing and rubbing was just instinctive, and between the two of them they’d both managed to make each other feel pretty damn good.

It wasn’t anything like a porn, or even the carefully shot scenes in “Dr. Sexy,” but it was the best sex he’d had in pretty much… well, ever.

There was a few seconds of dead silence on the other end of the phone, and some even louder happy squawking, and after a few moments Cas’s smile widened as he handed Dean back the phone. His own smile was just as wide as he pressed the phone to his ear. “So now that you know I’m not drinking myself to death, get off the phone and go kiss Eileen. She deserves it for putting up with you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I’m pretty sure you’ll have to kiss Cas for a solid week.” Dean could hear the grin in Sam’s voice. “And you know, if you’re ever looking to talk about your place in the LGBTQIA+ community, you _know_ I’d be happy to—”

“No, no, no.” Dean shook his head, cutting Sam off. “There will be no ‘talk’ about anything LG-whatever, and if you try to hand me _any_ kind if pamphlet rest assured I will punch you in the face. I am cool, Cas is cool, and we are both naked. Right now, that is all I need.”

“Sounds good to me.” The smile in Sam’s voice was softer but no less real. “I’m still getting you a bisexual flag pin, though. You can put it on your jacket.”

Dean let himself picture it for a second. “Yeah, I could do that.” Then memory kicked in. “Speaking of things we need to be doing, I think I managed to talk Jack into coming for dinner sometime next week.” He paused as Cas straightened again with a pleased expression. “Okay, so it was more like semi-harass, but he was into it. I’m sure Cas’ll help talk him into it as well” – a nod from Cas confirmed that – “but a few prayers from you will only help things along.”

“Yeah.” Now Sam sounded almost teary, but it was the good kind of teary. “Yeah, I can definitely do that.” In the pause, Dean swore he could hear a sniffle. “Do you think he’ll show up for the dinner with Jody?”

Dean thought about it for a second, then shook his head. “Maybe later, but right now I think he’d prefer we kept it to just the immediate family.” He met Cas’s eyes, the warmth inside his chest bright as a flame. “So check with Eileen and see when she’d be free. Even if she doesn’t want to move into the bunker, we don’t want to do the family meal without her.”

There was a pause where Dean imagined him relating the news to Eileen and getting her signed response. “She’s still thinking about moving in, but she says she’ll definitely be there for the dinner. We can set a date and time as soon as she gets her work schedule for next week.” The tone in Sam’s voice was much less familiar now, but Dean had still heard it a couple of times over the years. This was Sam so happy he barely had room for it in his body. “She’s requesting breakfast-for-dinner. She says she misses your pancakes.”

Dean grinned. “Tell her if she moves in, she can get all the pancakes she wants.”

“I will.” Sam was probably glowing by this point. “Now we should probably get off the phone so we can go kiss the people who need kissing.”

“Sounds like a plan.” They hung up the phone, then Dean dropped it back on the nightstand and turned back to Cas. “So – pancakes or more kissing?’

Cas stroked his thumb along Dean’s cheek, his face suggesting he was giving the matter some serious thought. “Kissing,” he said finally. “Then pancakes.”

Dean smiled, slow and seductive as he leaned in for another kiss. “Yes, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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